


tamed

by yehetno



Category: ASTRO (Band)
Genre: M/M, a quasi fic, an effort to refine my descriptive skills, i think we're gonna call it angst, uhm allusions to homophobia, underage smoking & drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-05 22:54:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13398018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yehetno/pseuds/yehetno
Summary: He was a bad influence, and Dongmin was in love.





	tamed

**Author's Note:**

> [x.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hUfgXoT8ycA&ab_channel=DennisKruissen-Topic)  
>  oops. couldn't help myself.

He wore his age like a badge of honor, seventeen in ripped jeans and an expensive leather jack, hair fried from all the bleach.  His attitude dripped of arrogance and an esoteric understanding of life that only a pained teen could have.  Wise beyond his years and a mouth full of venom, Jinwoo spelled trouble that could be seen from a mile away.

Some people smoked elegantly with the shaft of the cigarette caught between the forefinger and middle finger, hand cupped with that artistic poise, thumb flicking away the ashes.  That wasn't Jinwoo's style.  Park Jinwoo sat on the stoop of his aunt's house, smoke curling off the end of the lit cigarette pinched between his thumb and middle finger, tapping the cigarette's butt whenever too much ash glowed at the end of the stick.  

Dongmin didn't recognize him, the beautiful boy lounging on his neighbor's steps as rain fell from the sky.  He brought his bike to a stop at the very edge of his yard, hopping off and rolling it to its dry spot under the eaves of his home, eyes unable to stray away from the punk watching him.  Despite not having the time to wonder, wonder Dongmin did.  He glanced back at him three times before he actually made it to the refuge of his home.

He rushed to the kitchen to peer out the window; maybe his captivating new neighbor would remain there despite the gloomy weather.  Dongmin watched him smoke his cigarette for quite some time.  He crushed the cigarette butt under the tip of his shoe, waiting a moment before receding back into the house.  The moment his eyes flicked over Dongmin's kitchen window, Dongmin dropped to his knees, hiding with a hand still on the counter.  His heart pounded against his rib cage; he talked some sense into himself, crawling out of the kitchen to go to his room. 

He had homework to do and a perfect grade point average to keep up. 

 

//

 

"Hi," he said, squinting against the sun with a half-smile, pulling his bike alongside Dongmin.  His uniform matched Dongmin's, but it suited him in a way that Dongmin's never could.  Dongmin already knew that he would flagrantly disregard the rules if his popped open collar meant anything.

Proximity amplified his beauty; Dongmin saw freckles spanning across his cheekbones and nose.  Dongmin gripped his handlebar tighter, heart caught in his throat.  Crushes were no stranger to Dongmin, but the silly unrequited things usually left a fair amount of space between Dongmin and the boy on the other end.  Dongmin looked forward, selecting his response carefully.  The last time someone caught onto him, he went to the nurse with a bloody nose, a black eye, and a sore abdomen. 

"You shouldn't smoke," Dongmin managed to squeak out, jerking his thumb toward the speckled golden ends of the single smokes tucked into his breast pocket.

"And you should ask someone's name before you stare, Lee Dongmin."

Dongmin stopped in his tracks, unsure if his impolite staring or the usage of his name caused his feet to freeze.  How on earth did he possibly--

"Nameplate," he called back, smirk illuminated by the sunlight, "I'm Park Jinwoo, in case you were wondering."

Dongmin was wondering.  He glanced down at his nameplate, affirming his own name.  In the moment, his wants pulled him different directions.  One path allowed him to escape his own truth, ignore Jinwoo and pretend that he never piqued Dongmin's interest; it wanted to save him the heartbreak.  It wasn't the path Dongmin went down, no, instead, Dongmin pushed his bike forward and jogged to catch up to Park Jinwoo.

"Nice to meet you," Dongmin breathed, a smile cracking across his face.  He stuck out his hand like he was supposed to, a by-the-books introduction for an unconventional friendship.  Jinwoo took it, and Dongmin went into cardiac arrest.  The electricity might have been in his head, but Jinwoo's hand was undeniably warm and softer than he imagined.  His lips twitched into a smile, and for the first time, there wasn't a trace of mischief in Jinwoo's face.

"Nice to meet you."

Jinwoo let him have his hand back, the saint, the villain.  Side by side, they strode; Jinwoo followed Dongmin's lead.  Dongmin's knuckles blanched from how hard he held the textured grips of his handlebars.  He cleared his throat, scattering his nerves if only for a moment, "They'll ask you to dye your hair."

Jinwoo snorted at Dongmin's warning, "I'm not afraid of The Man."  Jinwoo puffed up his chest in synthetic rebellious pretention.  He wanted Dongmin to laugh, and laugh Dongmin did, softly like a whispered secret.

"They'll confiscate your contraband," Dongmin motioned to the partially hidden cigarettes. He quietly reprimanded himself; the administration should take away the cigarettes, kill the filthy habit where it stood.

Jinwoo snaked one out of his pocket and tucked it behind his ear like it was a small flower freshly plucked from the earth.  "They can try," Jinwoo scoffed, offended that Dongmin would think he might fork over his precious habit-enablers.

Dongmin mounted his bicycle, "I think black would be nice." 

Speeding off on his familiar route, he bit back a blooming grin with the soft wind combing through his hair.  He looked back to make sure that Jinwoo was following behind him.

He was.

 

//

 

Dongmin waited by the school gates for Jinwoo, call it neighborly concern.  He scraped the ball of his foot against the fine gravel, curious and afraid.  Jinwoo was a grade up, and it would understandable, forgivable even, if Jinwoo decided to invest his time somewhere else.  He watched as classmates brushed past him, keeping an eye on Jinwoo's chained bike.  He supposed it was better safe than sorry, safer to set himself up for failure than to mess up it all on his own.

Jinwoo strolled out of the main entrance, two fingers hooked under the collar of his blazer that he had draped over the back of his shoulder, the knot of his new tie yanked loose.  He raked his fingers through his hair and scanned the yard with confidence.  Dongmin corrected his posture in a vain attempt to stand out in the messy flow of students.  He almost picked up his hand to wave Jinwoo down, but his nerves frayed and Jinwoo spotted him before he could weave them together again.

Jinwooo hopped down the steps and unlocked his bike.  He brought himself toe to toe with Dongmin and smiled, "They asked me to dye my hair, and they confiscated my contraband."

Dongmin hid his grin by looking at his feet.

They walked home with bikes in tow, and Dongmin listened to the trials and tribulations of Jinwoo's first day.  A teacher took the cigarettes from his pocket, seething, but Jinwoo clocked him stashing it in his desk.  The indignation in his voice established the clear hypocrisy; Dongmin suppressed his delight that the teacher stripped Jinwoo of his vice.  The office administrator instantly informed him that the school's policy permitted natural hair colors only; Jinwoo had a three day grace period to change his hair color.  His words ran together for Dongmin, each syllable rich with its own sound as worthy of attention as the words that fell from Jinwoo's lips.

Before Dongmin knew it, which was too soon, they were upon Jinwoo's house.  Dongmin hesitated before he said goodbye.  He had questions, so many questions, but Dongmin held his tongue.  Their ties were tenuous, and Dongmin wanted to hold off on probing into Jinwoo's life.  They lingered before parting, or maybe it was just Dongmin ignoring the social cues.

With a quiet goodbye, Jinwoo disappeared into his house, looking back once to give Dongmin a smile and a wave.

 

//

 

Jinwoo dyed his hair black, and Dongmin's heart flipped and flopped in his chest.  Clean-cut and coiffed, Jinwoo descended the steps looking like a model student.  If Dongmin didn't have any poise, he would be on the sidewalk, curled in on himself, gasping like a fish out of water.

Luckily he kept his cool, but his heart and soul left his body, folding themselves neatly into the pocket of Jinwoo's blazer. 

 

//

 

His parents weren't home, and Dongmin sat on the couch several chapters into a dry history book about Pacific Theater in World War II.  The rhythmic knock at the door surprised him.  He sandwiched his bookmark between pages and moved to answer the door.  Jinwoo stood there, wet hair pushed back, wearing an oversized white tee and red gym shorts, looking like a sin despite all his efforts not to.  His stiff posture shifted when he saw Dongmin, relaxing as he wedged his elbow against the doorframe.  He ran his thumb across his lower lip and fixed a charming smile on his face, "Know a place that has good coffee?"

Dongmin nodded, swallowing down a dry lump in his throat.  He thought Jinwoo knew.  How could he not?  Dongmin fumbled around and stuttered in front of Jinwoo, trying to pack away expanding feelings.  Blush painted his face a brilliant pink, and nothing else caught his attention when he was Jinwoo's presence.

"Wait here," he told Jinwoo, rooting around his room to find his wallet.  His hands shook with excitement and nervousness.

Dongmin took Jinwoo to a diner in the style of those found in Nowhere, USA; there were no chain shops around and Dongmin didn't have enough money to visit the upscale cafe downtown.  They settled into a faded red vinyl booth; the menus were nestled between the condiments and the wall.  Quite the pair they made, Jinwoo in his comfy clothes and slides with white mid-calf socks and Dongmin in a pink button-up shirt and straight legged slacks.  Jinwoo drummed his fingers against the stiff plastic-cased menu, eyes occasionally flicking up to check on Dongmin.

A waitress in a mint green dress and white sneakers placed two small mugs on their table, set down the sugar caddy and cream.  She snapped her gum, ponytail swishing, "Let me know if you two want anything else."  With a wink at Jinwoo, she tucked her tray under her arm and moved on to another table.

Jinwoo slid a cup in front of him and waved his fingers over the sugar and artificial sweeteners.  He deliberately chose a single packet of sugar, shaking it and tearing the packet open to pour it into the black coffee.  He added a splash of cream and took a sip.  Dongmin brought his cup into his own hands.

"Do you know how you can tell the coffee isn't going to be that great?" Jinwoo asked as Dongmin started mixing sugar and cream into his coffee.

Dongmin shook his head, disheartened that his suggestion ultimately displeased Jinwoo.  Jinwoo crossed his arms on the table and rested his chin on them.  "Six-ounce mugs," he answered, lips curving into a mischievous smile and nose scrunching. 

Dongmin exhaled in a burst of laughter.  Jinwoo comforted him with a charming smile and an expression that held a promise of safety and security.  Dongmin took a drink from his coffee and grimaced; maybe Jinwoo was right.  Delicately, he wrapped his fingers around the mug and tried his hand at being witty.  "You're a coffee connoisseur then?" 

Jinwoo straightened up, gaze sharpening as a playful sarcasm draped over his words, "Oh, no one told you?  They ran me out of town for being so good at this game.  He knows coffee too well, they said! We can't take him anywhere, they said! Ha, you've fallen into my trap, young master."  Jinwoo sank his teeth into his pillowy lower lip, pressing his fingertips together in an imitation of a stereotypical villain.

Smiling with Jinwoo was like breathing.  Dongmin couldn't help it.  Jinwoo enchanted him, and Dongmin could not find it in himself to pretend otherwise.  Dongmin folded an empty sugar packet in half; he decided to push his luck, "Jinwoo?"

"Dongmin," Jinwoo replied, airy and light, all in good fun.

He folded the sugar packet in half again, "Why did you move here?"

He expected Jinwoo to pull away; he prepared for a hardened expression.  He thought Jinwoo would smack both of his hands flat against the table and stand up.  It was supposed to be a button that, once pushed, made Jinwoo pull away and clam up.

Jinwoo sat back, a wistful expression settling on his face.  He took a breath, "I was on my second strike, and my aunt could be bribed to take care of me.  So, here I am, one strike to go before Jinwoo as the world knows him disappears."

"Where will the Jinwoo as the world knows him go?" 

Jinwoo stuck out his pinky finger, "He's staying.  He has people he likes here."

Dongmin smiled, hooking his pinky finger with Jinwoo's, "Let's not talk about you in the third person."

"It's weird, right?"

 

//

 

Lies sat heavy on his tongue; his words warped and discomfort settled into the fine lines of his skin.  They bought his falsehoods so easily.  His parents seemed so enthusiastic that their son might have a social life to complement his academic perfection.  It left a bitter taste in his mouth; though his deceptions were bought, it weighed heavy on his mind.

He met Jinwoo in his front yard, and Jinwoo handed him a flask.

"You look nice," Jinwoo murmured, quiet enough for Dongmin to think he imagined it.

Dongmin smiled and brought the flash to his lips, and the warm alcohol burned his throat, bitterness reminding him of his dishonesty.  He threw away his worries and statistics about underage alcohol consumption. For a brief moment, he cared about nothing other than Jinwoo and his laugh and his smile and the smell of his cologne as he clung to Jinwoo for safety of the back of his bike.  The time, the place, the means, none of it registered as important, and he hardly noticed at all that he let his morality slip slightly.

The party was different than Dongmin imagined.  No one greeted them with a cheap plastic cup full of beer; in fact, no one greeted them at all.  There were many familiar faces but none were concerned in the slightest with what Dongmin and Jinwoo were doing.  Jinwoo grabbed his wrist and led him to the kitchen, scooping up a can of beer before stealing away in one of the bathrooms.  They leaned against the bathtub, passing the can of beer between them.

Dongmin took a swig of beer and picked at the tab.  Tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear, he looked at Jinwoo.  His eyes fluttered, unable to stare back into Jinwoo's eyes without falling apart completely.  "Am I drunk?" Dongmin asked, pressing his hand against his collarbone, "I've never been drunk before."

"I don't know," Jinwoo replied quietly.  He leaned his head against Dongmin's shoulder, "Depends on your alcohol tolerance.  You might be, which means I should keep my thoughts to myself."

"What thoughts?" Dongmined asked, handing the can back to Jinwoo.

"You know, thoughts about kissing you," Jinwoo said, pausing for a moment to slurp down some beer.  "I think about that a lot."

Dongmin looked at Jinwoo, eyes misting and voice breaking, "You think about kissing me a lot?"

Jinwoo lifted his head up and nodded, "Yes."

"Wow."

"Can I?" Jinwoo whispered, pushing himself back up into a sitting position.

Dongmin nodded, probably for longer than necessary to get his point across.  Jinwoo shifted and tucked his legs under his body.   He gently rested his hand along the contour of Dongmin's jaw, touching Dongmin's cheek with his thumb. 

Jinwoo pressed his lips against Dongmin's softly, so softly, but it didn't matter because Dongmin was a sandcastle watching the high tide come in.  It was bound to destroy him.

Time didn't matter, so Dongmin lost track of it.

His parents were furious when he rolled in two hours past the promised curfew, reeking of alcohol with pink swollen lips.  Shame dripped down his spine for breaking his parents' hearts, for letting them down.  His father began listing privileges that he would lose while his mother wondered aloud why he would be so foolish.   The night caught up with him and he ran into the bathroom to purge his stomach.  That night would not be the time for sweet dreams about the boy next door.

 

//

 

The temptation to sneak out of his room, cross the imaginary boundary between his yard and Jinwoo's, and rap his knuckles against the cold glass pane of his window pulled at him strongly.  He warred over the decision; disappointing his parents, that was one thing.  But on the other side was seeing Jinwoo. He had a distant hope that Jinwoo might instinctively  _know_ that Dongmin wanted to see him.  He needed to hear Jinwoo say it, repeat it back to him that it was real, all of it was real.

He spent a little too long thinking and doubting; he dwelled for just a moment longer than he should have.

He had never snuck out before, not that he had ever needed to or wanted to.  His window slid up with some resistance; quite some time had passed since he last wrenched it all the way open.  He ducked under the pane.

Never had he moved with such haste; a rush of adrenaline spiked through his veins and he rounded Jinwoo's house.  He didn't know if the thrill of sneaking out or seeing Jinwoo made him move so quickly.  He knocked on the window, rocking between his toes and heels, warmth bubbling up in anticipation.

Fingers peaked through the seam of the curtains, wrapping around the fabric and yanking it away from the pane.  Jinwoo stood with a blank expression, and it quickly blunted Dongmin's rising feelings.  His expectations failed him.  He watched Jinwoo exhale, deliberately unlocking the latch before lifting up the window.  He sunk down to his knees to meet Dongmin's eye level.

"Password?"

Dongmin stammered, fazed by the radical shift in Jinwoo's demeanor.  "I don't know..."

"Well then," Jinwoo replied, clicking tongue and sighing in disappointment, "You'll just have to bribe me."

Dongmin's mood soared, and he perked up, "A bribe?"

Jinwoo shrugged and grinned, "I set my price at one kiss."

Dongmin rose to his tiptoes and leaned forward to plant a chaste kiss on Jinwoo's lips.  He pulled away to see Jinwoo's eyes closed with a restrained smile.  Blinking, Jinwoo frowned, "I guess that will do."

He moved away from the window as an invitation for Dongmin to come in.  Dongmin leveraged himself off of a protruding stone from the wall. "Scoundrel," he muttered under his breath, landing in Jinwoo's room.

Jinwoo giggled, "Am I bad influence?"

"We're regressing to the mean," he replied while nodding. "You're a bad influence on me, and I'm a good influence on you."

"What makes you think you're a good influence?" Jinwoo asked, tapping the tip of Dongmin's nose lightly.

Dongmin pointed to the open books on Jinwoo's bed, "You're studying."

"Caught," Jinwoo sighed.  " _You're_ a bad influence."

Dongmin laughed.  He searched Jinwoo's eyes; he was allowed to do that now.  Deep brown and glittering with affection, Jinwoo's eyes held Dongmin's.  Dongmin reached out to hold Jinwoo's hand.  For once, feelings flowed both ways, and it felt healing.

 

 

// 

 

Smart and witty, kind but cunning, Dongmin saw every side of Jinwoo imaginable.  There were still pieces of the puzzle that were missing.

Whenever his fingers combed through Jinwoo's hair, the roughness reminded him that Jinwoo had bad habits.  He still smoked, just not in front of Dongmin; he tasted it whenever they kissed.  Dongmin found it difficult to disentangle himself from Jinwoo; there was always just one last kiss. 

 

//

 

It fell apart so quickly that Dongmin barely had time to blink.  He came back from sneaking out to a bedroom with a stern father who gripped his subpar report card.  Unable to meet his father's eyes, he listened as his father's steady and furious voice outlined his imprisonment.  School, cram school, home, and that was it. His father forbade him from even talking to Jinwoo, and oh, if Dongmin thought he didn't  _know_ what they were up to.

The vitriol spewed from his father's mouth; he shouldn't so much as  _dream_ of thinking about talking to Park Jinwoo.  He said Jinwoo's name like it was a curse instead of a prayer and it stung Dongmin.  His father promised he would be telling Jinwoo's guardian of his misdeeds.

Dongmin begged with a broken voice on his knees, please please  _please_ don't tell, he pled. Maybe that spurned his father on; it was a way to erase the corruption from Dongmin's life.

The door slammed behind him, leaving Dongmin alone on the floor of his room, defeated and afraid.

 

//

 

Jinwoo did not say goodbye.  He did not look at Dongmin with anger as he towed things between his aunt's home and the car waiting for him.  He just looked sad and disappointed.  Jinwoo did not care if Dongmin was sorry because words changed nothing.  Jinwoo was leaving, and he wasn't going to wait for Dongmin, that much Dongmin could tell.

With a gloomy sky full of clouds threatening rain, Jinwoo packed up everything as Dongmin watched from the window in the living room.  Dongmin wanted to run out into the street and hold onto Jinwoo.  If he could, he would chant how much he loved Jinwoo over and over like a spell to make him stay.

Jinwoo, so full of fire and fight, climbed into the car without so much as sparing Dongmin a glance.  The car sped away, and with each meter put between Dongmin and Jinwoo, his heart tore a little more.

It started to rain; just as Dongmin saw him for the first time, he saw Jinwoo for the last time on a rainy day.

**Author's Note:**

> smoking is bad. don't do it.
> 
> my [tumblr](http://yehetno.tumblr.com) is a place that you can ask me questions & i dunno.... i just link to my tumblr now i guess. come talk to me, i'm lonely.
> 
> i would appreciate comments & kudos, or really any kind of feedback that you want to give.


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